


Feel Again

by LexiLulu



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Smuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiLulu/pseuds/LexiLulu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benedict Cumberbatch has just moved to LA alone and disheartened. He meets his new assistant Fallon - a woman just as broken as he is - and the two of them conquer life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Benedict slid into the leather seat of the car and sighed. Today was a day just like any other, and he was feeling rather grumpy. All morning he’d sat in chairs answering the same redundant questions, and he would sleep in a cold bed alone tonight. 

"How was that?" William, Benedict’s agent, said.

"Awful," he answered, "they always ask the same rubbish."

"Well, sorry," William said. "I do have good news."

"What?"

"I’ve found your assistant," William said. "She’ll be responsible for getting you where you need to go when you need to go there."

"She? You know I hate working with ‘she’s. They’re all the same," Benedict said, "and they all want me."

"She’s different," William said. "She comes highly recommended and will not fall in love with you."

"Who said anything about love?"

"Either way, Ben," William said, "you need her, and I’m quite sure she can handle all your needs. We’ll meet her at the hotel."

"Bollocks," Benedict muttered. "I hate having to get new people in the mix. They never know what’s happening."

"Give her a chance, please," William begged. "We both need her."

Benedict rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly.

"You’ve been of a foul disposition lately," William said. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Benedict answered a little too quickly. He knew in fact everything was not all right. Growing up, he had always wanted a family of his own. He’d dated many women but none of them stuck around long enough or suited him enough to call ‘wife.’ Fame came, and he felt optimistic, only to find many women were not as honest as he’d hope and more of them didn’t care enough to try to make it last. Here he was, a man in his mid-thirties, with a career and fame but little else.

He thought things could have worked with the model - she was pretty, witty and more than a fun time in bed, but she was manipulative, cruel and not very kind. She had used him to get herself ahead in the business, and once that director had taken interest in her as actress, Benedict no longer suited her needs. He had genuinely liked her and would have overlooked her faults if she would carry his children. She hadn’t wanted that either - being at the cusp of her career where she strolled around in stick-thin naked limbs on a daily basis.

As if William could read his mind, he simply said, “Maybe you’re looking in the wrong places, brother.”

Benedict bit the inside of his cheek and stared out the at the LA skyline.

The hotel was fine - most people would call it ‘exquisite,’ but Benedict had stayed in so many the architecture and fine furniture hardly held anything for him. William led him to the bar where a beautiful woman sat - her long legs in heels stretching out of the fire red skirt of her dress. Her slender waist sat above a plump rear and he could tell the curves of her breasts were sublime. Her blond hair hung in luscious curls down her back and he could only imagine how beautiful her face was.

His heart was racing for the first time in a long time as William neared the woman. Perhaps his agent had actually gotten this one right - an attractive woman good at her job who Benedict wouldn’t mind having on his arm. As Benedict was wiping his sweating palm against his jeans, William turned. Benedict frowned as he followed, not exactly aware of the shift. This goddess was not for him.

Instead William neared a woman sitting in a chair with drink next to her, frantically typing on her iPad and talking onto her phone. She smiled at William, seemingly pleasant enough.

"No, sir," she said, "We will not take that. You must give me four or you get none. All right, thank you."

She stood and Benedict sighed. She wore black flats, a black skirt, a white shirt beneath a black jacket. She wore no jewelry and her dark hair was pulled tightly into a bun. She was short, and not fat nor thin, but average. Her face was covered with the bare minimum of makeup, and Benedict wasn’t sure if more would help - she was plain. At least he wouldn’t be attracted to her, if only he could say the same for her to him.

"Hello, William," she said, shaking his hand. She held her hand out towards Benedict. "Mr. Cumberbatch."

"Hullo," Benedict said. "What are you called?"

"Fallon," she answered, "or Ms. Kidd."

"Fallon’s your first name?"

"Yes," she answered. "I would expect someone with a name such as yours wouldn’t find anyone else’s name surprising."

"Right," Benedict said, "Ms. Kidd."

"Moving right along," she said, "I’ve three houses for you to look at in the morning to see if there’s one you like. They’re all at least three bedroom, three bath. One has a pool and hot tub, another a pool. They’re all fairly close to the studio and should appease you fundamentally. A car will pick us up at ten, breakfast is available here in the lobby until 9:30, and then we’ll be off."

She reached into her bag and produced two key cards. “William, you are in 312 and Mr. Cumberbatch is in 314. What is your number, Mr. Cumberbatch?”

He rattled off the numbers, overcome by her direct manner and the cool, airy tone to her voice. Immediately his phone was vibrating in his pocket and he reached for it.

"No need," she said, "it’s only me, and now you have my number. You have reservations at Papacitos at 8, a car will be out front at 7:30 under the name Underhill, as is your reservation. You may go alone or take someone with you - the reservation is for four. Will that be all?"

"Thank you, Fallon," William said. "You’ve done very well. Do you need anything else, Benedict?"

"No," he said. "That will be all until tomorrow."

"Until then," she said with a smile. Her teeth were square, but white, clearly she was a nervous grinder. "It was a privilege to meet you both, and please call me if you need anything."

She picked up her leather messenger bag and fastened it shut. She nodded to each of them once before passing between them and walking out of the bar.

"Where did you find her?" Benedict asked.

"The association," he said. "She left Brian Williams for you."

"Brian Williams?"

"He’s a news anchor on NBC here," William said, "I suppose she wanted a little more thrill."

"I highly doubt she’ll get it," Benedict sneered. "Can you cancel the reservation?"

"I’ll have Fallon do it," he said. "That’s what we’re paying her for."

"I just want to go to bed," Benedict said.

"Okay," William said. "Get some sleep and wake up happier."

"Sure," Benedict said. He turned and headed for the stairs to take him to room 314, muttering under his breath as he went.

In the morning, Benedict met William in the lobby, grabbing a banana and bagel for breakfast. They walked out to the SUV waiting for them, and Fallon was already seated in the passenger’s seat. She passed them each a folder and a pen. Benedict opened his as they pulled away from the curve.

"Mr. Cumberbatch, sir," she said, "I’m going to have to ask you to buckle your seatbelt. I know I’m not your mother and you are a grown man, but we cannot risk you flying out the window in the event of a wreck."

Benedict sighed and pulled the strap across his lap and chest and fastened it.

"Now," she said, "inside you’ll find the listings for each of the three houses, as well as a note pad and pen should you wish to take notes. The realtor we’re working with is Mr. Avery Crump, and he comes highly recommended. Of course since you’re renting, the process could be a bit different. I would like for us to find you a house this morning so you can get lunch and then have plenty of time for your suit fitting. The evening is yours, and I’ve arranged a spa visit for you in the morning before the gala. I may suggest an early night tomorrow as you’ve a table reading Thursday, and they want you early."

"I told you she was good," William said.

"I have no complaints so far," Benedict said. 

"Good," she said, "Canceling dinner last night was no problem, sir, but is there a reason? Was the cuisine not up to your taste or the time off?"

"I just didn’t feel like it," Benedict said.

"That’s fine," she said. "Shall I make you reservations for tonight or let you handle that?"

"I think I can handle it," Benedict said.

"All right," she said. "Now, the first house is two story…"

Benedict stood at the kitchen window which overlooked the front yard and driveway. “I like the first one better.”

"All right," Fallon said, "Prefers number one to number two, and it is also a thousand less, so that wouldn’t hurt. I think you’ll find number three is also good."

"Let’s see it then," Benedict said.

"You should consider becoming more chipper," she said. "This mully-grubby thing won’t help in the eyes of your fans, and women don’t really find the broken, angry thing attractive. Well, the ones that do aren’t ones you should be considering."

"You’re into my personal life now?"

"I’m only trying to help, sir."

Benedict shrugged and followed her out the front door and back to the car.

"What else?"

"What else what?"

"What else is wrong with me?"

"There’s nothing inherently wrong with you, sir," Fallon said, sliding into the seat next to him as William climbed in the front. "You’re plenty attractive, and from what I read, you really want a family. That’s very attractive to most women. You’re well-educated and successful."

"But none of them stay," he said.

"None of them must be the right one," she said. "And it may be time you trade in your margaritas and martinis for a nice, stout, brown beer."

"I told you you were looking in the wrong places," William said.

"There are some incredibly gifted women in L.A. You might just meet her here."

"I haven’t met one yet I trust well enough," he said. "I’m very critical, and every one of your kind just wants my money or my fame. None of them really care about me, and I am convinced none ever shall. My money is more important."

"That’s something only an asshole says," Fallon said. She dropped her voice and mimicked him. "Oh, poor me. I’m rich and famous and beautiful, but no woman will ever love me as I am. Meh."

"Fair point," Benedict said. "Did you just call your employer an asshole?"

"Not directly."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Benedict studied her silhouette as she scrolled through her phone.

"What about you?" Benedict asked. "What’s your story?"

"I am all business, sir," Fallon answered. "I am here to work for you, and the details of my personal life are unimportant to the details of yours. Not all rectangles are squares. You would have to take me to dinner first which is strictly against my policy."

"Fair enough," Benedict shrugged. "Only trying to make conversation."

"Have you memorized your lines?"

"Yes."

"How was working with the trainer?" She asked, "Is that working for you?"

"It was fine, and yes."

"Good," she said. "I can arrange some interview practice questions for us to look over while we travel. Waste no time."

"Fine."

They sat in silence now as she flicked through her files and pulled papers from different folders.

"Fallon?"

"Yes, Mr. Cumberbatch?"

"Do you ever have fun?"

"Yes, sir," she said. "I knit."

"Fantastic," Benedict said. He ran his hands down his jeans and twiddled with his knees now spread far apart. He had very few female friends as they were all married with children or single and predisposed to wanting a relationship with him. But here sat a woman who didn’t seem interested and could easily keep to herself.

"Fallon?"

"Sir?"

"Call me Benedict."

"Yes, Benedict."


	2. Chapter 2

He had his eyes closed as the woman ran her hands across his back, rubbing oil and loosening his muscles. He would definitely have to thank Fallon for this. A spa day was just what he needed, and he could feel his skin relaxing and his thoughts drifting towards sleep. He couldn’t have a care in the world - save his ever present singleness, oneness, alone-ness - as Fallon had taken care of everything.  
Renting a home wasn’t even stressful with her, for as soon as he declared the third one with four bedrooms, three-and-a-half baths, a media room, pool and hot tub his favorite, she was at the kitchen table with Mr. Crump organizing papers and getting Benedict to sign along dotted lines. She then pulled out swatch rings and they walked through the house assigning each room a color. Lunch was held with an interior designer to grasp Benedict’s personal taste, and he would be moved in within the week, and all he had to do was have his suitcase prepared.

He had thoroughly come to appreciate her in the two days he’d known her and reminded himself to thank William as well.

"You’re so tight, sir," the masseuse said as she kneaded his back.

”I know,” Benedict said.

That night he leaned with his elbow against the bar, his foot across the foot rest of the stool next to him. The scotch in his hand was pretty delicious and he felt good after his facial, pedicure and manicure, even though men weren’t supposed to enjoy the finer things.

"Why are you over here by yourself?" A tall busty brunette said as she brushed her hand across his thigh. 

"Drinking," Benedict answered. He considered her wide brown eyes, plum painted lips and bouncing breasts. Perhaps he still had a bit of tension begging for relief.

"Dance with me, Benedict," she said. "My name is FeFe, and I never disappoint."

She ran her long fingers down his chest and he shivered into her palm. “No, I bet you don’t.”

He slid his hand in hers and followed her onto the dance floor. The song was slow and delicate, and they treated each other as such. His hand sank around her waist and rested at the small of her back while the other gently held hers as they twirled. Her hand rested on his shoulder, occasionally a finger would swipe gingerly across his neck.

"What do you do, Miss FeFe?"

"Dance," she answered, twirling away from him only to spin dangerously close back into him. His face was so close to hers he could smell the champagne and strawberries on her breath and could see the flecks of gold in her eyes. He gasped as her hand slid down to his ass and gave an appreciative tug. Ah, yes, there was tension.

He followed as she led him away from the big spenders and drunkards down the hall to the bathrooms, and he groaned as she ground her hips against his leg. His hands grasped her neck and pulled her lips to his. She was ferocious, and he liked it. He liked it so much one stroke across his hips of her hand caused his pants to grow tight.

"We’re going to have a wonderful evening, Mr. Cumberbatch," she purred, just before sliding his finger into her mouth.

Fallon rolled her eyes as she slipped the key card into the door and pushed. She walked quickly through the living area of the suite and to the bedroom where it was just as she expected. She grabbed Benedict’s ankle from where it hung off the bed and dropped it heavily.

"Get up!" She said. "You’re to be on set in thirty minutes and we have to leave in fifteen. Shower, now."

"What?" Benedict said, raising himself up on his arms.

"You need to get in the shower now," Fallon said. "We need to leave in fifteen, and you’re a mess. You weren’t answering calls."

The dancer FeFe stirred and pulled the sheet over herself. “Who are you?”

"I am Mr. Cumberbatch’s assistant," Fallon answered, "and I must ask you to gather your things and go. You can get breakfast in the lobby if you like."

Benedict rolled over and ran a hand through his dark brown hair. He then rubbed his eyes.

"Up! Now!" Fallon shouted, pulling the sheets away. FeFe shrieked, but Fallon ignored her. She picked up the gold dress on the floor, not surprised to find the absence of underwear, and tossed it at the dancer. FeFe tried to unsuccessfully cover herself as Benedict dug through a drawer.

"Really?" Fallon said. "Do you eat anything ever? This is why all the women you’re with make you unhappy because they’re unhappy! Food and nutrition make you happy, never mind one fleeting night with a man."

"I’m not unhappy!" FeFe said, pulling her dress over herself.

"You just slept with a movie star and for what? He’s not going to call you."

"I won’t," Benedict shrugged, still naked, holding his jeans in front of him.

"Shower. Now."

Benedict picked up a t-shirt from his drawer and then closed the bathroom door behind him. Fallon scooped the heels off the ground and passed them to the disheveled dancer.

"You’ve got some smeared eyeliner," Fallon said, "just there."

FeFe sneered and yanked her shoes away from the shorter woman. “I hate you.”

"The feeling’s mutual, darling," Fallon said with a smile. "Please don’t mention this to anyone if you wish to ever work in entertainment again. I’m not kidding."

FeFe narrowed her eyes in a most unflattering manner and walked out the door.

Minutes later, Benedict opened the door dressed and ready to find Fallon sitting in the arm chair in the bedroom. His strewn about clothes from the night before had been collected and placed in a pile for laundry. Fallon stood and walked to him, her arm outstretched but her hand in a fist. He held out his hand, and she dropped two pills into it. She passed him a bottle of water; he took the pills and a swig.

"There’s toast in the living room," Fallon said. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine, thank you," Benedict said. "I’m sorry I didn’t answer calls. I must have forgotten to plug in my phone."

She pulled his phone from her pocket and passed it to him. “It was in your pants.”

"Thank you," he said. She didn’t look him in the eyes but rather stared at the ground, his neck or his chest. He clenched his jaw together, feeling ashamed of himself. William knew of his frequent nights with strange women, but having to confront it with a woman he actually found himself admiring seemed daunting. He ran his lip through his teeth.

"Did you protect yourself?" She looked at his feet.

"What?" he asked.

"The last thing you need is a STD or money-grabbing pregnant woman."

"Right," Benedict said. "Yes, I protected myself. Besides, all these women are on birth control."

"Just making sure," Fallon said. "I won’t ask again."

Damn right! Benedict thought, and then he caught himself. She had his best interest in mind, and he should too. “It’s fine. You’re doing your job.”

"Thank you," she said. "We should go."

For weeks, Benedict and Fallon worked well together. She always had his meetings scheduled, his clothes in line, and his reservations made. He’d been able to settle into his new house easily and found the accommodations nice. He had even been on five dates with the same woman.

Emmy was a fifth-grade reading teacher and beautiful. She had a warm smile and big heart, and Benedict found himself drawn to her goodness. She spent her evenings baking for the fifth grade field trips or the PTA meetings, and she would even let Benedict steal a cookie on the occasion.

Of course he had Fallon to thank for her too. She was Fallon’s dearest friend in Los Angeles, and the two often knitted together.

Tonight, Benedict sat in shorts and a T-shirt at one of his bar stools while Emmy iced the red velvet cupcakes she made. He watched her and smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"You’re cute," he answered. She grinned.

"I have extra icing if you would like some," she said, holding the piping bag in his direction. She squeezed some onto her finger and held it to his lips. He licked her skin, his eyes never leaving hers. He began kissing up her arm, all the way to the sleeve of her t-shirt.

"Benedict," she said softly. He reached for her arm and pulled her to him, settling her right between his thighs. She dropped the piping bag onto the counter and ran her thumbs over his cheeks. She felt her heart racing in her chest as his icy gaze met hers, and she ran her bottom lip between her teeth. He held her gently, running his palms from her back to her hips. He leaned in for a kiss, and she met him, capturing his bottom lip between hers. It was as if she knew what he was thinking as she opened her mouth, his tongue easily sliding between her teeth. She tasted like cupcakes and sweet tea and everything that was good.

He pulled away and met her gaze, the warmth spreading from his stomach. She nodded, and he grinned. He made quick work of scooping her into his arms and easily carrying through the house to his bedroom.

Fallon sat enjoying her latte, her feet propped up in a chair. She always liked to be early to the set because it gave her time to think for herself and take care of any last minute things before Benedict arrived. Of course, he was always walking in right on time or late, so she was currently involved with a book.

She jumped as the door flung open, and Benedict climbed inside.

"You’re early," she said, taking her feet out of the chair. He just grinned and deposited his jacket onto the rack. He sat down in the chair previously holding her feet and clapped a hand on her knee.

"I don’t know that I thank you enough," he said, "for all you do."

He was particularly cheerful this morning, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Fallon’s jaw dropped.

"You slept with my best friend!" she said. He smiled so widely it crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Well, shit, Ben. Now you’ve got to marry her."

"What?"

"You’re my boss, and she’s my best friend," Fallon said. "If you break up, I’ll have to quit one of you, and I like you both too much to make that decision."

"I will give you an exceptional reference should that be the case," he said.

"Do you love her?" Fallon asked.

"I like her very much," Benedict said.

"Please try to do better than that," she said. "I shouldn’t have introduced you."

"No," Benedict said, his hand coming to rest on hers. She hoped he didn’t notice the jerk in her body as their skin met, and she felt a lump rise in her throat. "I’m very glad you let me meet her."

He might have been glad, but Fallon wasn’t. She loved Emmy dearly, but more disturbing was how she was beginning to feel for her boss. She had begun to feel privileged because she was perhaps the only person who ever got to see all sides of him. He was courteous, charming and funny on set. He was quiet, reserved and thoughtful away from others. His brooding had stopped since he had met Fallon, and he had become delightfully cheerful since meeting Emmy. Fallon sighed for she had no one else to blame for this but herself.

She had sworn off love long go, but meeting Benedict as a beautiful mess had drawn her in. She could laugh at him and with him, and he took it well. He had kept his word and asked no more about her personal life. She supposed it was because he saw nothing more in her than a friend and ally, but she often found herself afraid of his considerate gaze. That’s all it was - a considerate gaze; not a loving, caring or compassionate one, just a pleasant one. She shrugged. Maybe it wasn’t love, but the intense desire to fix something, to fix him.

"I’m glad," she said and smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

A month later, Benedict and Emmy were still together, and Fallon had adopted her first cat - a tabby named Taryn. However, Taryn would have to fend for herself for a week as Benedict and Fallon flew out to New York for a run at Comic-Con.Fallon liked him better when he was by himself - he was her Benedict and not Emmy’s. They could both be comfortable, and he seemed less on edge. Of course, Emmy was the one to take him to the edge in bed or in the shower or across the kitchen floor as she had once confessed to Fallon.

Fallon began to hate. She hated them both for being so happy and leaving her alone. It was all her fault, and she began to resent herself, too. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way ever again, and she hated it.

She covered it well though, as she had learned to do. She daily donned a mask of strength when she most needed someone to hold her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had honestly cried - the kind of cry that makes you feel better when it’s passed, when your body shakes and your eyes run and sobs are uncontrollable. No, Fallon had not cried in years and she desperately needed to.

"Great panel," Fallon said as she followed him onto the elevator. He had seemed quieter this trip, but he smiled then.

"Thank you," he said. "They were fun."

The bellhop in charge of the elevator smiled and an elderly couple joined them.

"Sixteen," Fallon said.

"Nine," said the old man. He smiled at Fallon as he wobbled forward with his cane. The woman held onto his elbow and they situated themselves in the corner.

"Hold the elevator, please!"

A woman in her early twenties dashed between the elevator doors as they were closing. She carried two grocery bags under her arms and sighed as she leaned against the wall.

She didn’t have to say anything, just give the bellhop a look before he nodded and pressed the button. Everyone stood silently as they rode up.

As the doors slid open on the ninth floor, the girl exhaled as the elderly couple shuffled out. “Old people freak me out. You never know when they’re going to go. That’s like, my worst fear, like, you’re idly waiting somewhere and an old person just kicks the bucket. What do you do?”

The bellhop nodded as if he agreed and Benedict shrugged. He twiddled his thumbs as the elevator began to rise again.

Suddently, the elevator stopped and the lights flickered off, slowly and one at a time. Fallon had instinctively wrapped an arm protectively around Benedict’s front as the car jerked to a halt, and the four of them gasped, cries in pitch black.

"What is that?" the girl asked. The bellhop fumbled for the phone and held it to his ear.

"Line’s dead."

"Must be a power outage," Fallon said, illuminating the small chamber with her cell phone. "No service."

"Me either," Benedict said.

"Shit," the bellhop said. "None of you is a murderer, right?"

"No," the girl said. "Are you?"

"Of course not," he answered, his face glowing blue in the light of their mobile screens.

"What now?" Fallon asked, surveying the ceiling with her cell phone.

"We could shout?" the girl offered.

"I don’t know they could do anything," the bellhop said. "These doors are fire doors that lock in the event of an emergency."

"Is that up to code?" Fallon asked.

"Probably not anymore," he answered, "but the building’s a landmark and can’t be changed."

"Hmmm," said Benedict as he sank to the floor, "we wait."

"I was supposed to have a party tonight,” the girl said, “so I’ve got some drinks and snacks if we need them.”

The drinks and snacks were needed. After thirty minutes of darkened silence from the outside world, Sarah, the savior with the snacks, opened the bottles of wine, and passed Benedict and bellboy Tony each a beer. They told the dirtiest jokes they knew, ate crackers and cheese, and drank.

"Thank goodness the old people left," Sarah said. "Can you imagine being trapped in here with them? I bet one of them would have pissed the floor by now."

"That’s disgusting," Fallon said, "though not unlikely."

She drank deeply of the bottle in her hand - a delicious red. They had resorted to sit in the dark now, she and Benedict sharing a wall, and Tony and Sarah stretched against the others.

"This is starting to get unbearable," Tony said. "I hate small spaces in the dark."

"Sounds like you’re in the wrong profession, my friend," Sarah said.

Silence.

"Are you two to heavy petting yet?" Sarah asked minutes later. "Sure are quiet."

"What?" Fallon asked, even though she was very aware of Benedict’s hand dangerously close to her thigh.

"I just figured since you two are together, a darkened elevator should spark all kinds of sexy times."

"Oh, we’re not together," Fallon said. "He’s my boss. He’s dating my best friend."

"Shit. Sucks for you," Tony said. Fallon tipped her bottle to her lips again.

"No."

"No?" Fallon repeated into the darkness.

"She dumped me," Benedict said. There was a click of the aluminum can hitting the ground - he was drinking deeply too.

"What?"

"She said I was too much," he said. "My schedule was too much, my money was too much. I was too much."

"Fuck," Sarah said. "That’s harsh."

Fallon thought she could feel Benedict nod. “Ben, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

"Didn’t want to ruin our trip," he said. "And you once said you would have to pick between us, and I’m not ready for you to leave."

"I won’t," Fallon said. She drank again.

Silence.

"I’m gay," Tony said. "Woo, it feels good to say it. I’ve never said it before out loud. I feel incredible."

"That’s fantastic man," Sarah said. "Good for you. Live your life."

"I have to tell my parents," Tony sighed.

"That’ll be okay," Fallon said, "won’t it?"

"I don’t know," he said, "I’m their only son. I’m pretty sure they’ll still love me."

"Give them a chance," Benedict said, "and if they don’t accept you for who you are, fuck them."

Silence.

"I wish my parents cared," Sarah said. "My father owns the place, but he has no time for me."

"I’m sorry," Fallon said.

"It’s okay," Sarah said, "I’m moving to Australia in the fall, so he can miss me then."

She laughed, clearly inebriated. “What’s your sob story?”

"Mine? You don’t want to know."

"That means it’s good then," Tony said. "What is it?"

"We’ve all shared, Fallon," Benedict said. "So should you."

"Fine," Fallon said. She gulped more of the red and smacked her lips. "I was married. John and I met my first day of college in British lit. He was funny and kind and cute, the first boy ever interested in me. We dated for two years before he proposed - took me up to the hill under the pecan trees on campus and asked the question. I agreed thinking I had found my soulmate. He was, I guess, still is in some ways."

She drank again. “I was married at twenty. People told me I as too young, and I should have listened. Our two year anniversary rolls around, and I was just in love with him as ever. We laughed, managed classes and jobs fine. We had friends and the sex wasn’t terrible. He was taking me to dinner at IHOP because that’s where he took me on our first date. I was so excited to take a break from work and studying, and I had great news. I’m halfway into my pancakes when he just looks up and says, ‘I slept with Shauna.’ Shauna was his lab partner in chemistry, and she was very pretty. Of course I couldn’t even think of my news as I had to run. I had to get up and run from the love of my life and my husband, and there I was pregnant with the bastard’s baby.”

"Ssshhhhiiiitttt," Sarah hissed.

"It gets worse," Fallon said. "There was a park nearby, so I ran to it, throwing up in some bushes as I went. I had my best friend pick me up as I was ignoring John’s calls. I stayed with her that night, only to get a phone call from the police at 2:21 that morning. John was drunk and passed out in the middle of the road. He got run over and was killed instantly.”

"Shit." Tony said this time. "What happened to the baby?"

"I buried my husband, and a month later I buried my baby," Fallon sighed. "Miscarriage. The doctors thought it could have been the depression or the trauma, or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be."

She sniffled, unaware tears had been rolling down her face. “I’ve just always thought it was all my fault. He cheated because I wasn’t good enough, he left that night because I wasn’t talking to him, and my baby died because I couldn’t take care of it.”

"Oh, Fallon," Benedict cooed, reaching for her in the dark. "None of it is your fault."

He pulled her onto his lap and cradled her against his chest, rubbing her back and tangling fingers in her hair. She sobbed against him, knotting her fingers in his shirt. Sarah and Tony circled them and found her in the dark. Tony simply placed a hand on her back and Sarah held her hand.

And the tears she held for eight years streamed down her face, and the sobs she suppressed shook her body against Benedict’s chest. He kissed her forehead, simply holding her tightly.

"It’s all my fault," she sobbed, "all my fault."

"It is not," Benedict repeated. "This was all out of your control. You didn’t ask him to cheat or go out into that night. Things happen we can’t explain. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, smart and independent woman, and I bet those events made you into the woman you are today. You’re so inherently strong and I admire that very much about you."

He continued to whisper sanguine thoughts into her ear until the shaking stopped and the tears subsided. She left her face buried close to his heart as she got her breathing completely back to normal.

"I’m sorry I unloaded all of that," she said, wiping her face with the back of her hand as she leaned away.

"Don’t be," Sarah said. "Let it all out."

Fallon felt a bottle being pressed to her arm, so she reached for it. She drank, and then Benedict was reaching for it in the dark. She let him have it and tried to scoot out of his lap, but he tightened his grip around her waist.

"You can stay," he said softly.

"Well," Tony said, "can someone shed some light for a minute? If this is how it’s going to be, I’m going to stretch out and maybe catch a nap."

"That sounds good," Sarah said, fumbling her way back to her wall. Benedict held out his phone and shined it in the corner opposite of him where Tony snuggled up to the wall. Sarah was huddled in the opposite corner, and Benedict moved all the alcohol out of the way.

"Are you tired?" he asked softly.

"I guess," Fallon answered. His lips brushed against her eyebrow in the dark, and she climbed out of his lap. He slid down the wall and propped his head up on his arm. She laid down next to him on her side, her face glowing with the light of his cell phone. He slipped it into his pocket, and the reached out with his arm, brushing the fabric of her jacket.

She followed his lead and nuzzled her face in his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her. She had forgotten how it felt to be so close to another person, to hear his heartbeat and feel his warmth. He left his fingers on her back, drawing circles, and Fallon closed her eyes though it made no difference in the dark of the elevator. Listening to the rhythm in his chest, she drifted to sleep.

Benedict rubbed her back even as her breathing evened up. This was the first time he’d ever seen Fallon break - all the stress of his schedule and following his demands, and she handled it all. Only here as she’d had wine and darkness did she cry.

He finally understood why she’d sworn off love, kept herself so busy and treated herself to the bare minimum. She was broken, and he wanted to fix her. He kissed the bit of her hair closest to him and sighed as she nuzzled her face closer to his neck. Her breathing and the lazy smacking of her lips let him know she was still asleep.

She jolted awake as the elevator shifted and the lights flickered. Benedict was quick to sturdy her as he had not slept at all, focused on his thoughts and the sounds of her breath.

"How long was I out?" She asked, sitting up and running a hand across her forehead.

"An hour or so," Benedict answered.

The elevator started moving and the door opened on the next floor.

"Oh, thank God you’re all right!" Marvin, the manager, said. "We are so sorry. Rolling blackouts across New York and you people were stuck in the elevator."

"Hello, Marvin," Sarah said. She stood and stretched.

"Miss Strauss!" He rushed to her and picked up the bags. "So sorry."

"Please make sure my friends have everything they need," she said, "and my father and I will be pleased."

"Of course," Marvin said. "Mr. Cumberbatch! So sorry."

"It’s all right, mate," Benedict said, helping Fallon to her feet. They stepped off the elevator.

"If you don’t mind," Fallon said, "I think I’ll take the stairs."

"Agreed," Benedict said. He nodded to Tony and Sarah. "It was so nice to meet you both."

"You too," Tony said. He leaped off the elevator and threw himself at Fallon. "You are a strong woman. You deserve the very best."

She hugged him back and laugh. “Thank you, Tony. I hope everything works out with your parents, and please know you’re fierce and more special than all the rainbows in the sky.”

"Rainbows," Tony laughed. He hugged her again before returning to the elevator.

Once Benedict and Fallon were standing outside of their doors, he stopped and took her hand.

"Fallon," he said, "you really are very special. My life would be drastically different without you in it."

"Thanks, Ben," she said.

"Fallon, I’m serious," he said, "and I think I should take you to dinner as my friend. May I take you to dinner as a friend?"

"That sounds nice," she said. "Yes, you may, but just this once, chief."

He grinned. “I’ll come for you in two hours. Wear something nice.”

She nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

Fallon shifted in her dress, making sure everything was where it should be. She decided to wear her hair down in curls, instead of her traditional bun, and then she added a little bit more makeup than usual. Benedict was taking her to dinner - as friends, of course - but she wanted to look worthy of someone who should be out with him. Yes, she would do.  
The knock on the door pulled her away from the mirror and she skittered into the one pair of heels she owned. She exhaled, knowing this was a bad idea but couldn’t help herself.

"Coming!" She called, shrugging on her coat and grabbing her purse from the chair. She puled open her hotel door, and there he stood.

His jaw dropped when he saw her, but he quickly recovered. “You look amazing.”

"Thanks," she said, "so do you."

It was true; he did. He was wearing dark jeans, a button up with a complementary tie and sweater vest, and suit jacket. He approved of it himself, and he kissed her cheek.

"I’m glad you agreed," he said. "This will be good for us."

"Me too, thank you for offering." She felt nervous. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it.

"I even made us a reservation tonight so you wouldn’t have to," he said.

"How lovely."

They took the elevator down, relieved to see Tony was off for the time being. The car pulled to the front of the hotel and Benedict helped her inside.

"I have a bit of truth for you," he said.

"Oh really?"

"I didn’t make us a reservation," he said. "Because we don’t need one where we’re going."

"Am I overdressed?"

Her dress was green and hung at her knees with braded straps, and her black jewelry looked good with it.

"Goodness, no," Benedict said. "We’ll have a good time. And you look great."

She was glad it was dark in the car because it hits her blush. He casually draped his arm around the back of the seat so his fingers hung just over her shoulder. She could feel their warmth through her jacket, or maybe she just thought she could.

"You need to quit paying me compliments," she muttered.

"Every beautiful lady deserves a compliment," he said. She exhaled.

We’re just friends, she thought, and that’s good enough.

They pulled up to an arcade.

"I am overdressed!" Fallon cried as the car stopped and the door was pulled open.

"You’ll be fine," he said. "You’ll turn all the heads of the prepubescent boys and there’s nothing they can do about it because you’re with me."

That made her laugh. She hadn’t held the attention of anyone in a long time. He held the door to the arcade open for her and then ran ahead of her to the kiosk. He exchanged words with the teenage girl and then took Fallon’s hand as she led them through throngs of children.

A back room was waiting for them, one of the smaller ones meant for a party. It was empty but contained an air hockey table and several classic arcade games. He pulled out a chair for her and then sat across from her.

"Good evening," a young man said. "I’m Eric and I’ll be your waiter today. What drinks can I start you off with? We only have sodas."

"Um, I’ll have a Coca-Cola," Benedict said, and then he looked to her.

"Root beer please," she said. He sat a menu on the table and nodded.

"Great," Eric said. "I’ll be back in a moment to see what you want to eat."

"I know it’s a bit odd," Benedict said, "but I thought maybe we could use a night of childish fun with no obligations."

"That’s nice," she said. "I haven’t been to an arcade in years."

"Good," he said. "We’ve got unlimited tokens."

She laughed. “What kind of pizza do you like?”

"I’m good with a simple pep," he said.

"That sounds good to me," she said. "That seems to be all they serve aside from appetizers."

"And desserts," he said. "Cheese cake bites and fudge balls, we’ll have to have some of those."

"Certainly," she said. "I do love cheese cake."

"If we’re going to be friends, will you be more relaxed than you usually are?" he asked.

"Cutting to the chase, are we?"

"I know I’m lonely, Fallon, and I think you might be, too."

She pulled her eyes away from the formica table and looked at him. She licked her lips as they sat in the silence.

Benedict watched and he could practically see the gears in her head churning. She really did look lovely tonight, and he looked at her pale arms now that she had removed her coat. He thought they were soft and comforting, and he thought how much he’d like to have them around him. Clearly that was not to be though as she was in no place for a lover. She made it very clear she did not want one, and he could respect that, as he respected everything about her.

"Yes," she said. "I am lonely. I have been lonely for far too long, and it would be nice to have a real friend."

"Now that that’s settled," Benedict grinned. "Tell me about your cat."

By the time they had made their way through a basket of chips and salsa, mozzarella sticks, a pepperoni pizza, cheese cake bites and fudge balls, they were quite comfortable with each other. Benedict loved to make her laugh and she loved it when he made her laugh. He loved how often she averted her eyes when she felt uncomfortable.

"How about a duel?" he asked, stretching in his chair. She tried not to notice the way his vest and shirt clung to his chest and she could she the curve of his ribs.

"Air hockey?"

"Yes," he said.

"I hope you’re not a sore loser," she said, pushing her chair away from the table.

"You’ll find, Miss Kidd," he said, "that I am a humble winner."

Benedict tried not to get caught up in the way her dress drooped slightly when she bent over the table, but he couldn’t help it and it cost him three hits. She got the better of him, even when they were playing.

It would be incredibly hard to be friends, but for the time being, that was what they needed.

He was sure she let him win the last of five games, but he didn’t mind. She was smiling and laughing more tonight than she had in the entire time he’d known her, and that was enough. Forget the bastard that cheated on her and went and got himself killed. She was lovely, smart and gifted and deserved to be treated as such, not to mention her body looked amazing in that dress. He ached to touch her, but he wouldn’t.

She loved to watch his long limbs stretch out over the table, and she imagined his arms stretched out over her. She had to shake the thought several times knowing he was her superior, and that kind of affection was unwarranted. She loved seeing him so carefree, chuckling every time he got a shot and cursing himself every time she did.

After several rounds of Donkey Kong and racing, they decided it was enough time spent in the secluded room with interruptions only from Eric. The car was waiting on the curb and Benedict helped her in and purposefully put his arm around her shoulders. She settled in the crook as they told the lamest jokes they knew. They giggled the whole way up to their floor like two people in love. Well, they were in love but neither said anything, and neither would.

"It’s been lovely, Ben," she said, as they stopped outside of her hotel room. "I will enjoy not being lonely with you."

"Thank you," he grinned. "You are the best company."


	5. Chapter 5

Benedict laughed as Fallon hung on his shoulder. They were returning from one of the night’s out they enjoyed together in the past weeks, defying loneliness together.  
"How was I to know I was sticking my hand in her cake?" Fallon giggled.

"You could have looked," Benedict chuckled. "It’s a pretty good story."

"Thanks," Fallon said.

When they got back to her apartment, Benedict faced her. He thought she looked pretty tonight - her cheeks were flushed and her smile bright, probably from all of the wine.

"Thank you, Benedict," she said. "For tonight, for being my friend… For everything.”

He nodded, absently taking her hands. Fallon stared into his eyes. His eyes were lovely, little pools of peaceful blue. His hands were warm on her and the smile that played on his lips made her stomach flutter.

"You’re lovely," he said. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, and she tilted her head so he could. He couldn’t help himself as his lips gently caught hers, but she gave into it rather than push away. She tugged on his jacket, pulling him closer and his hands wrapped around her back. He gingerly prodded her lips open with his tongue and found himself spurred by her soft moan and he way she felt against his chest. She tasted like apples and cinnamon, and he relished the flavor.

Fallon wrapped her arms around him, one hand grasping his neck and the other on the skin of his back right above his jeans. He was warm and soft and strong; she was pale and delicate and sweet. Fallon’s hand slid down into the pocket of his jeans and tugged gently through the denim. Benedict moaned now, and she sighed.

She reached into her bag and fumbled with her keys.

"Come inside?" she asked, her forehead beneath his chin and her eyes closed. He nodded and kissed her, his hand staying on her back. She unlocked the door and led him in, kicking off her shoes.

"So, this is—"

His lips silenced hers as he caught her in his arms. Her purse dropped to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his middle, enjoying the feel of muscle beneath his shirt. His arms sank to her thighs and slid up beneath her skirt. She moaned again, and he grinned against her lips.

She pushed off his jacket and they parted long enough for her to pull his shirt over his head. Her eyes widened as he stood before her and she ran her fingers over the bumps of his abs and pecs. She immediately slid her jacket off and then Benedict lifted them hem of her dress until it was off her body and in a heap on the floor. He licked his lips before pulling the bun out of her hair and running his fingers through her locks. He tilted her head and kissed her neck down to her collar bone. Her warm hands on his back made him sigh, the heat in his belly spreading. He kicked out of his shoes as she worked on his jeans, and then he kicked out of those too.

"Fallon, I don’t have any—"

"Don’t care," she breathed, pushing her front to his and kissing his chest. She knew she should but she couldn’t care. She needed to feel his skin on hers and his weight happily upon her. It had been too long since she’d even been kissed, and her current lover was an excellent kisser. She tugged him down the hall to her bedroom, her lips and tongue tangled with his. He was so warm, and she was enjoying the heat spreading through her own body. He fell onto the bed, and she toppled onto him. His legs hung off the bed with his knees bent, and she straddled his waist. She kissed him eagerly for a while, and he groaned as she started grinding her hips against his.

She stilled for a moment to unclasp her bra and discard it on the floor. Benedict’s large hands quickly found her ample breasts and squeezed them gently. She moaned as her nails dug into his shoulder. Every doubt she had faded as he kissed down her chest. She flopped onto the bed, her ankles still around his waist but her head was now on the pillow. He trailed his fingers up her leg, leaving goosebumps upon her skin. He sank onto her, kissing her again. Her fingers were cool against his back, and he moaned. He pulled away from her and ran his thumb across her cheek.

"What’s wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, leaning in to her lips. "I just want to look at you."

Her stomach rolled over itself as his nimble fingers traced a line down her body, his eyes following them. She stared at his face, a face she had looked at it countless times, but somehow it seemed more beautiful. His lips were wet and slightly parted, his pink tongue resting on his lower teeth. She couldn’t even ignore the sparks she felt beneath his fingers as he appreciated her body. She was ready.

Fallon found his hand as it toured across her skin and took it beneath her palm, guiding it between her legs. His eyes widened as he felt the moisture and groaned. She gasped as his fingers slipped under her panties and into her.

"I haven’t felt anything this wonderful in so long," she sighed, her hands grasping the sheets. Benedict laughed and kissed her, dipping his tongue into her open mouth.

He pushed her underwear down her legs and tossed them to the ground.

"Why do you keep yourself hidden? You’re beautiful."

She didn’t answer but rather threw her leg over his middle and pushed him onto his back. Her hands found his chest and her hips found a rhythm causing them both to moan.

She knew she should stop, but his fingers dug into her ass and his bulge felt so right between her legs. She could feel his boxers were now wet from her own movements and she grinned.

"Fallon… Please…"

She nodded and tugged on his boxers.

"You sure about this?" he asked.

She nodded as she slid onto him. She cried out, and he pushed his hips up against her. She arched backwards, grabbing his thighs and rocking her hips. Benedict had a full view of her bouncing breasts and he liked it.

He had never thought the woman who scheduled his appointments and planned his dinners would ever be sitting gorgeously astride his middle and pulling him closer to an orgasm. He had grown fond of her, but this was something different. She was his now, and he liked the way it felt.

He dug his fingers into her hips and flipped them over, biting her lip. She groaned as he pushed himself completely inside of her. He worked slowly, kissing her body like they had an eternity together. Her short nails dug into his arms, his back, his bottom, and he grunted with each thrust.

Fallon began to pant with every move, tears rolling into her hair and her insides coming apart. It had been so long since she’d had a man inside her, and Benedict treated her delicately like she was a porcelain doll, moving swiftly but softly and pulling her closer to the edge with each thrust. The way his cool lips gently brushed her skin was enough to make her moan, but then she felt his hand thrumming on the little ball of nerves while he continued his movements.

He found a spot inside of her which caused her to cry out and dig her nails into his arm, so he kept hitting it and circling his fingers. Her speedy breaths were music to hs ears, and he thrust into her and nipped her breast at the same time. She arched up against him with a cry and tremored beneath his chest. He stilled as he felt her muscles clench around him, and he wanted to feel it again.

"Ben…"

"Shh," he said, sliding almost completely out of her. He eased back in, and she shivered beautifully against him. He moved again, keeping his fingers between her legs. She bit his shoulder to stifle her cries of pleasure, and she began moving her hips to aid him along.

Benedict felt himself losing it, but he wanted to hold onto his edge until she came again too. She sank away from him and swatted at his legs.

"I want to sit in your lap," she said. He shifted so he was sitting on his knees with his thighs slightly apart. She crawled between them and grabbed his hips, kissing him. He watched her wide-eyed as she draped her legs over his and slid perfectly onto him again.

He groaned as she flicked her hips and wrapped her arms around his neck. He kissed her, raising himself up slightly as his arms circled her waist. Every move pushed her chest against his and he groaned.

"Fuck, Fallon," he moaned, sliding his hand against her. She gasped again as he pushed. She wound her fingers in his hair and tugged. He pushed deep inside of her hit that spot. He continued until she bit hard onto his shoulder and shook. The feeling of her muscles clenching around him practically pumped his own orgasm out if him and she sighed as he called out incoherently. He leaned forward, falling on top of her and pushing her into the mattress. He grinned as he kissed her, his body still between her legs. She lay limply, sprawled out like a wet noodle.

A smile spread across her face and she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth throughout her body. He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, his other hand on her belly. She tilted her neck as his lips traveled across her skin. They continued in silence with nothing but the sound of their breaths and the air conditioner.

"That was wonderful," he purred, his breath hot on her ear.

"Exquisite," she said. "I’ve never had an orgasm, let alone two."

Benedict sprang forward, looking to meet her eyes. “What? You were married.”

"So? He didn’t care."

"And you said the sex wasn’t that bad," he snorted. She slapped his chest hard. "Darling, it couldn’t have been your fault. That really was the most enjoyment I’ve gotten out of a bed in a long time."

He kissed her again before sinking into the pillow next to her. She rolled onto her side and looked at him, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed. He was beautiful, and Fallon knew all the feelings she wasn’t supposed to feel were there, and she felt blissful.

"Your first orgasm," he said, scrunching his eyebrows. "You never touched yourself or anything?"

"John was the only man I’d ever been with," she said. "And I tried getting myself off, but I always felt filthy or foolish."

"Oh, Fallon," he said softly. "There’s nothing filthy or foolish about you."

She smiled and traced his cheekbone with her finger. “Thank you, Benedict.”

He kissed her palm tenderly and then pulled her onto his chest. She nuzzled against his skin and drew circles as he stroked her hair.

"Good night, Fallon," he said.

"Good night indeed."

Benedict was alone when he woke up in the morning. He figured his boxers were probably better washed first, so he picked his jeans from the floor and pulled them on his long legs. He heard clanking and followed the noise to the kitchen. Fallon had her back turned to him and was on the phone.

"Yes," she said. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you very much. I’ll see you in two weeks."

Benedict had been coming around her breakfast bar to wrap his arms around her middle but that sentence made him pause.

"Good," she said, turning to him. "You’re up."

"Yes. Who was that?"

"That was Warner Brothers. They’re hiring a director of special events and have offered me the job. I’ve taken it."

"What?" Benedict asked. He couldn’t close his mouth or unfurrow his brow.

"Benedict," Fallon said, flipping a pancake. "Last night was great, really, but it shouldn’t have happened. You’re my employer and I, your employee. It is my fault and accept full responsibility. I must leave you."

"Fallon, you don’t have to."

She looked down at her hands. “Please, Ben. I’ve been compromised and I don’t think there’s a way we can make this work professionally. Plus, you’re going back to London and won’t need me.”

She couldn’t tell him how she’d woken up from the best night’s sleep she’d had in years or how she had watched him while he dreamt of unknown things. She didn’t tell him how even now she longed to kiss his lips and hold his body against hers.

"You could come to London," he said. "Nobody knows me better than you do and the system over there isn’t hard to uderstand."

"I’ve already accepted their offer," she said. "I’ll work my two weeks or until I find my replacement."

"Fallon, please don’t."

"I can’t do this anymore, Ben," she said. "I’ve made you breakfast, but I’m going to take a shower. You can leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll see you this evening for the interview."

She ducked passed him without even looking his direction. Benedict stood stunned in the kitchen. Clearly she viewed last night as a mistake and wanted nothing to do with him. He could have stayed and waited, but he was too heartbroken and respected her too much to do that. He collected his clothes from the bedroom and left breakfast where she put it on the table.

It took Fallon three days to find a replacement, and Benedict agreed with Fallon just because he couldn’t bear to see her hurt, and every time they were together, that’s exactly how she looked.

Their last meeting was brief. She gave him back his keys and the jacket he had once leant her. They hugged, gripping each other too tightly and both managing to hold in their tears. He kissed her cheek and sighed when she walked away.

Fallon went home to an empty apartment and curled herself into a ball, eventually finding solace in sleep. Benedict went to a bar, had too many drinks and stumbled onto the couch his apartment, hoping for a better day.


	6. Chapter 6

The next six months for Benedict were not his best. He kept busy, even went on a few dates. They were all lovely, calm and collected, the type of girl he should be happy to be with. None of them worked out though because they didn’t understand his sense of humor or didn’t know how to laugh at themselves.  
He was back in LA for a premier, and premier for Warner Brothers in fact. He was nervous and excited because he wanted to see her. He needed to see her. He had called her, e-mailed her, tried to each her through Emmy and none of it yielded any results. She didn’t want to talk to him, but he still had hope.

He paused to look in the mirror as he made his way out of his hotel room. He wanted to look his best, and he thought he did. His black Spencer Hart suit was sharp and well-fitted, and he was wearing his favorite sparkling Louis Vuitton dress shoes. He knew they would make Fallon laugh. His hair was blonde now for his current role as an English gentleman, but he was sure she wouldn’t care. He gave himself a nod of assurance before opening his door.

"You look good, Mr. Cumberbatch," Jamie, his assistant said. "The car is ready out front."

Benedict’s heart raced in his chest as they pulled up to the venue, and he could already see the green carpet dotted with flowers. It was a children’s movie about an enchanted forest, and the carpet seemed to fit well. He grinned inwardly knowing Fallon had something to do with it.

"The carpet is fairly short, sir, so there won’t be many interviews."

"Thank you, Jamie," he said. He strolled forward, hoping to make the carpet a quick event so he could find her. She had to be present.

He blew through the first handful of interviews with ease and paused for the cameras half way. He stopped to chat with an older man from Empire, and then he saw her. She was at the edge of the carpet with her back to him, talking to a group of people all in black. She had a clipboard in one hand and a headset across her skull. He laughed as he noticed her traditional flats and her skirt hanging just past her knees, but her hair was down and hanging in soft curls. He remembered how her hair felt like silk beneath his fingers that one night they shared.

"Benedict, are you all right?"

Benedict whipped his head around and saw the little man staring up at him with concern in his eyes. “Oh yes, sorry. I’ve just seen an old friend.”

"Ah, you were smiling like a man in love," the interviewer laughed, "that’s why I was confused."

Benedict chuckled. “Maybe I am.”

He glanced back in her direction but she was gone.

"Anyway," the interviewer said, "what was it like working…"

Benedict didn’t see her again the rest of his walk down the carpet. He looked across the crowds - his height making it easy to do - but saw her nowhere. Jamie tried to usher him along into the theater, but Benedict had one last idea. He found the nearest person in all black and a headset.

"Could you tell me where Fallon is?"

"Fallon?"

"Ms. Kidd?"

"Oh, I think she’s upstairs getting things together for the after party."

"Of course she is," he said. "Thank you."

He had the sudden urge to sprint, passing through crowds as he found the red velvet stair case and climbed.

"Mr. Cumberbatch, where are you going?" 

"I’ll be back, Jamie!" He huffed. The doors to the banquet hall on the fair end of the theater were open and he could see the tables adorned with flowers and the lights from the dance floor flickering. She had to be here.

He ran through the doors and saw her in the corner talking with a DJ and another girl. The DJ was smiling at her, so he guessed she must be charming as always, and he just wanted to see her face. He passed quickly around tables and could hear his heart above the loud music blasting through the speakers.

The other girl stopped midsentence web she saw Benedict charging towards them, and her eyes widened.

"Uh, Fallon…" was all the girl could manage.

Benedict thought time stopped in the instance Fallon slowly turned around. He was going to tell her he loved her, whether it was a good idea or not. He had to tell her.

She gasped when their eyes met, but then he frowned. His eyes only focused on the roundness of her belly, and his jaw dropped.

"Fallon, are you—" he couldn’t finish the statement as he already knew the answer. He was vaguely aware he was falling to his knees, and his hands were reaching out. She didn’t stop him, and she sighed when the long fingers gently pressed against her small bump.

"How long?"

"Six months."

"Is it—"

"Yes, he is," she answered. Benedict tore his eyes from her stomach and met her gaze.

"He?" he was crying now, his palms still pressed against her dress.

She nodded.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"Yes. When he got here. With my past, I didn’t want to risk it," she said, her voice cracking. Her fingers were instinctively curled in the hair by his ears. "And here I was telling you a money-grabbing pregnant woman was the last thing you needed, and look at me now."

"I think you look beautiful," he said. "I called, you know."

"I know," she said. "I dialed your number so many times."

"Fallon, I’m so sorry," he said. "I fell for you and I was very selfish that night."

"Please don’t say that," she said. "I can’t bear to hear it. I wanted it, too."

"Do you still?" he asked, looking up at her through long lashes. "Could you still?"

She moved her fingers from his hair to his cheeks and brushed away a tear. Her eyes met his and she grinned. There it was - the little kick from the baby inside of her. She slipped her hand over his and moved it to the spot on her belly.

Benedict’s gaze moved from her face to the place her hand rested, and he gasped as he felt it.

"I think he likes his daddy," she managed between a sob and a giggle. Benedict chuckled and and stood, brushing his fingers across her cheeks.

"I’m so sorry, Fallon," he said. "I shouldn’t have been so careless."

"It’s my fault," she said, "I didn’t have to leave. I just thought it would be unbearable to be around you because of the way I felt."

"How did you feel?"

"How did you feel?"

Benedict puffed out his cheeks and considered his answer. It was now or never. “I feel like I fell in love with you, somewhere along our late nights and early mornings, and afternoons spent in the sun. I fell in love with the way you cared for me and the way I could make you laugh. I haven’t felt the way I feel about you ever, and that night of being with you was the best night of my life. I would like to be a part of your life and little baby’s, if you’d let me. I love you, Fallon.”

She let out a light gasp and giggle between her tears. “I love you, Benedict. I have for a long time. Now stand up and kiss me.”

He looked up at her almost as if he was shocked but quickly stood. They gazed at each other, both their hearts racing in their chests.

"Is this foolish?" She breathed, her hands resting in the crook of his arms. He grinned and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"No," he said. "I don’t think so."

He leaned in, keeping her gaze to make sure. She leaned up to his lips and he sighed as their lips melted together. He pulled her against him, and she relaxed, the bump of her belly pressed against him making him smile.

Benedict and Fallon missed the premier and the after party, and no one seemed to mind.


	7. Epilogue

Benedict practically skipped up the stone walkway to his front door. He was overjoyed to hear a childish giggle as he quietly opened the door and shut it soundlessly behind him. He sat his bags down and slid off his jacket, stepping over all the places in the floor he knew would creak under his weight. The smell of baked sugar filled his nose and there was another squeal.  
He turned the corner into the kitchen and his heart melted. His beautiful wife was standing behind the island, red and blue icing smeared across her cheeks, balancing their second son on her hips while he smeared green icing on a cookie. His daughter was ensconced in her high chair, cooing and grinning with crumbs between her pudgy fingers.

"Daddy!" Benjamin Cumberbatch cheered as he saw his father in the doorway. Benedict grinned as the five-year-old ran towards him. Benedict knelt and caught the child in his arms, kissing his cheeks.

Fallon’s jaw dropped as she looked up from her son’s edible artwork. Benedict effortlessly crossed the kitchen and kissed her earnestly, even though they both held a child in their arms.

"We weren’t expecting you home so soon," she said.

"My plane got in a couple hours early," he said, "and I thought it would be nice to surprise my beautiful family."

"We made you cookies," Benjamin said.

"Cookies!" Richie piped from Fallon’s arm. Benedict kissed his nose, catching a bit of frosting between his lips.

"How sweet!" Benedict laughed. "How have you been, my boys?"

"Good! Mummy lets me ride my bike to the edge of the lawn," Benjamin said.

"He can go really fast, too," Fallon laughed. Benedict grinned.

"Can I put you down so I can hold your sister?"

Benjamin nodded, and Benedict sat him on the counter next to bowls of red, blue, yellow and green icing. He lightly slapped Fallon’s bum as he crossed behind her and stopped in front of the high chair. The little girl giggled as babies do and cooed. He picked up her tiny body and kissed her cheeks.

"My darling girl," he said softly. "You’re so beautiful."

"She is, isn’t she?" Fallon sighed, watching the two of them together.

"She looks just like her mother," Benedict grinned, looking from his daughter to his wife.

"She got her father’s hair though," Fallon laughed. She put Richie on the counter next to his brother. "You’re getting too big, baby brother."

"I’m not the baby," Richie said. Being the middle child, he’d gotten a bit outspoken to make sure all of his needs were met.

"You’re right," Benedict said. "You are a big, strong boy just like your brother, and you’ll take good care of your little sister, won’t you?"

Both boys nodded.

"Did you make any art while I was away?"

"Yes!" Richie cheered.

"And I learned all of ‘Hey June’ on the piano," Benjamin said proudly.

"It’s ‘Hey Jude,’ son," Benedict laughed.

"I keep telling him that," Fallon said, "but he likes June better."

"Ah, well," Benedict said, "as long as he knows it. Well, why don’t you two go to the living room and gather up some of your stuff to show me, and your mother and I will be in in a minute."

"Okay," Benjamin said. "And then you can watch me ride my bike!"

"Of course," Benedict said. "I would love that."

Benedict passed Adelaide to Fallon and helped Richie from the counter as Benjamin was big enough to jump down by himself. Fallon slid the one-year-old into the high chair and grinned as her husband’s warm hands settled around her waist.

"That was the most beautiful sight I’ve seen," he said, brushing some powdered sugar from her cheek. "You make my dreams come true."

"You’ve given me more than I ever could have hoped for," she grinned, rubbing the muscles in his back. He’d managed to bulk up a bit for his latest role as a Bond villain, and she liked the change. "A career I love while running my marvelous home, my amazing husband, and four beautiful children. I fall in love with you everyday, even when you’re not here."

He grinned and kissed her. “I missed you every day, and our children.”

The corner of her mouth twitched up in that way he loved, and then it hit him.

"Four?"

She nodded and grinned. “Four.”

"You are an incredible woman," he purred, cradling her belly. He kissed her face all over and flattened his chest to hers. She kissed his neck and sighed as his lips met hers. She curled her fingers in his hair and he slid his hand beneath her shirt and flattened them against the skin of her spine.

"Eww, gross!" Benjamin said. Benedict laughed as he pulled his lips away from Fallon’s pink lips. "Come see what I made."

"Okay," Fallon said. Benedict stepped around her and gingerly lifted their daughter from the chair and cradled her against his chest.

"Another few months and they’ll get to see what we made," Benedict hummed next to her ear. Fallon sighed and slipped her hand into his back pocket.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."


End file.
